


Worse Odds

by mneiai



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Alpha-17 sees some problems and decides murder is the answer, Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Dark, Gift Fic, M/M, Not A Fix-It, One Shot, Possessive Behavior
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-08
Updated: 2020-10-08
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:07:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26888602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mneiai/pseuds/mneiai
Summary: Alpha-17 died with the Force collapsing his trachea, the scalpel he'd managed to grab buried too deep in Ventress' gut for her to survive long after him. It was not necessarily a good death, but it was a death he couldn't regret.He, of course, hadn't expected to wake up.
Relationships: Alpha-17/Obi-Wan Kenobi
Comments: 44
Kudos: 633





	Worse Odds

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kj_feybarn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kj_feybarn/gifts).



> Written for Fey in exchange for an absolutely beautiful Codywan fic! I hope this comes even a little close to being that good of a read.

Alpha-17 died with the Force collapsing his trachea, the scalpel he'd managed to grab buried too deep in Ventress' gut for her to survive long after him. It was not necessarily a good death, but it was a death he couldn't regret.

His last moments were still fantasies of the could-have-beens that he'd never know: the lips he’d never been brave enough to kiss, the hands he’d never been able to hold outside of hospital tents. Then they were of his last _good_ memories: of Obi-Wan's calloused hand gently resting on his forehead, his bright eyes wide with concern as he ordered him to medical treatment on Coruscant, having to use all of his authority to get some clone that sort of attention.

He, of course, hadn't expected to wake up.

Battered, tired, in just his blacks, but alive. Not a single trace of the Force choke that had killed him hindering his throat. 

He was too paranoid to try his comm, just stole a poncho off a passed out drunk in an alley or whatever sand drenched backwater he was on and did his best to blend in, get a feel for things.

A lot could happen in a short period of time and he had no idea how long he'd been out of it or why he'd been dumped like he was in this particular town.

First, he stole a blaster to hide under his poncho, a vibroknife to sheath in his boot. Then, he looked for information, figuring credits would be his next stop when he figured out what section of the galaxy he was even in.

Apparently, which side of the _war_ the planet was on wouldn't be an issue.

Unless he was hallucinating, but it was a kriffing weird thing to hallucinate ending up on Tatooine nearly a decade before he’d been decanted, even for him.

***

7938 CRC was a weird year, Alpha-17 decided. 

All the major battles came before or after it, with the only conflict of note (and conflicts _were_ what most of his original education was on) the ongoing civil war in the Mandalore Sector. What he could find on the Holonet (thankfully it hadn’t evolved much in the years before the war), only confirmed that...it was a boring year.

The sort of boring Alpha-17 might have talked about as blissful, when he was only imagining it. But he wasn’t going to get to enjoy it: This would be the year his General was there in the midst of Mandalore’s conflict, ~~sniffing after the Duchess~~.

His General, who was definitely alive, and as well as he could probably be, considering. A Padawan, of all things, some shiny running around after a General who by all reports was worse than Kenobi and Skywalker _put together_.

Thinking of that, thinking of Mandalore...gave him an idea.

First he just needed to steal enough credits and a ship to get off Skywalker’s least favorite dustball.

***

He staked out Galidraan for two months before the hit happened--the governor dead, some suit of armor he was keeping in his hideous mansion the only thing missing. Easy in, easy out from the home of a man who didn't think he had many enemies left.

Jango left a trail, not enough for the useless security guards to find, but more than enough for someone a better, more experienced Jango had taught. He followed him straight back the clunker he was flying and got the drop on him with pathetic ease--two high powered stun bolts in just the right joint of the beskar'gam he'd hastily shoved on and Fett was down for the count.

The first thing Alpha-17 did was strip him, the second thing he did was tie him up in a way he'd have to seriously injure himself to get out of. Then, he studied the younger Jango Fett, taking a moment to really think through what he was doing.

They were nearly the same age--well, the same _physical_ age. Jango had less muscle, still gaining it back from his time as a slave if the rumor mill among the Cuy'val Dar was to be trusted. Alpha-17 had more scars, but who wouldn't expect Jango to come out of the osik he went through with some permanent reminders?

In the months since Alpha-17 had come back, his hair had grown out from the military regulation cut, but it looked like Jango had already trimmed his own hair back, so that was no issue. All he needed to do was talk for a little while, let Alpha-17 _learn_ him.

When Jango woke up, that's exactly what he did.

No doubt at least part of it was connected to that feral look in his eyes, that doubt that maybe all the spice he'd been forced to work with had long-term effects and he was hallucinating someone that looked like him, sounded like him (picked up more and more of his accent and mannerisms as the hours went on).

Eventually, dehydration and sleep deprivation added to that, and it seemed like he thought Alpha-17 was some spirit sent from the Manda to punish him for some perceived sins. Towards the end, he could only mutter apologies to Jaster and a string of others in choked out Mando’a, rung out of tears.

By the time Alpha-17 put a bolt right between his template's eyes, he felt his new knowledge and what he'd already known would serve him more than enough. And any guilt he might have felt had disappeared when he realized he was doing little more than putting a rabid striil down.

He spaced the body and, despite Manda'yaim and Obi-Wan pulling at his heart, headed to Concord Dawn.

***

Rounding up the Haat Mando'ade went like this:

  * Find some of the Cuy'val Dar he knew had been members or connected to members, 
  * Pretend to be Fett recovered from years of slavery,
  * See who would answer their Mand'alor's call.



Convincing them he _was_ still worth following was even easier and began and ended with Tor Vizsla beheaded with his own lightsaber (sparring with Obi-Wan always had a tendency to pay off in the least expected ways). Some choice words to Death Watch--that they'd ever given Jango a problem made his estimates of the man go even further down--had them forgetting why they ever had an issue with Fett in the first place.

He’d led troops before, but that didn’t have the same weight as this--of watching Mandalorians kneeling before him, rededicating themselves to the Resol’nare, declaring _him_ (well, Jango Fett, but that was who he was now) the Mand’alor.

As a lesser man, he might have let it go to his head. Instead, he stayed all-business, focusing on plotting with the best of his new soldiers to take back Manda’yaim--take back the whole kriffing Sector, eventually.

Then finally, _finally_ he could hunt down his General.

***

Alpha-17 was pretending to be Jango Fett, pretending to want peace with the New Mandalorians, pretending to protect Satine Kryze from the Death Watch (even though they were now under his control).

He couldn't even be sincere in his regard for Padawan Obi-Wan Kenobi, because being _nice_ to a Jedi would be suspicious.

Sometimes he fantasized about drugging Obi-Wan, slitting Kryze's throat, and taking his little General off somewhere no one would find them.

Other times he remembered how wily his General had been and thought of the signs of that he'd already seen in the eighteen year old version of him. He knew the long game was the _only_ one he could play.

“Jango” was not a permanent fixture, he hopped in and out of their lives, ever claiming to be on the trail of Death Watch or some other enemy. He randomized it as much as he could, not wanting to give anything away.

Getting rid of Jinn, and his incessant lectures against attachment, was the first step in this part of the plan. It also proved to be surprisingly difficult, even though he tried every time he reappeared to the group. If Alpha-17 didn't know just how good his shielding was, he'd suspect the Jedi Master knew what he was up to. 

Maybe it was the "Living Force" osik he kept going on about to Obi-Wan or maybe it was pure luck, but the man proved _difficult_ to kill.

Alpha-17, though, had faced worse odds.

They’d “split up” during an attack, Jinn and “Jango” making themselves more obvious targets so Obi-Wan could get Satine out of the way. He fought back, of course, the commandos going against them knew the plan (the plan he’d told them--that they had to carefully get rid of the older Jedi and the Duchess, to avoid Republic retaliation, before hitting the New Mandalorians where it would really hurt) and the risks.

He'd fought Force sensitives before, he knew how key distractions were, and mindset.

Over and over as Death Watch shot at them, he thought, "I'm protecting Obi-Wan," with complete sincerity. 

As he turned his blaster on Jinn.

As he shot him, again and again, just to be safe.

His smoking body was caught in an explosion soon after, no trace would remain that he'd been very clearly shot in the back at close range.

Obi-Wan had felt the death through his training bond, he didn’t even have to say anything to make that clear. He’d still helped Alpha-17 escape with Satine, deflecting blaster bolts as he covered their backs.

Then he spent a day barely responsive once they were out of danger, moving like some automaton at their directions. The Duchess couldn't handle it, of course, couldn’t handle thinking of one of her protectors as a person with the same sort of feelings as she had, and it fell on Alpha-17 to take care of him.

After two months of knowing him in this time, he decided he could be more forward. 

“It’s alright, Ob’ika,” he whispered to him, pulling him into his arms and rocking him as he might have one of his batchmates during a bad growth spurt. 

“It’s _not_ , my Master is dead, what am I supposed to do?” Obi-Wan turned his head into Alpha-17’s chest without prompting, clinging onto him like he might disappear, too.

Stroking his hair, Alpha-17 took a moment to catalog all of the moment, to store it away in his near-perfect memory. “You carry on. That’s all you can do, when you lose your family.”

Not that Fett had done much of that, but Obi-Wan didn’t know that. He thought Fett was trying to rebuild, to make a better Mandalore for his people. In this world, or timeline, or whatever Alpha-17 was supposed to call it, no one would ever know Fett for the failure he was.

They went back and forth like that for hours, Alpha-17 murmuring gentle assurances, Obi-Wan soaking them up. He'd wanted to do this dozens of times with his General, but while that exact man would never exist, there was enough of him in this Obi-Wan to satisfy.

With Jinn dead, they were stretched thinner. It was easy enough to get Obi-Wan to leave Satine in "Jango's" care. He couldn’t do anything to her, yet, because if she died under Obi-Wan’s protection, and especially when he wasn’t even there, he’d blame himself.

What Alpha-17 could do was convince Satine that she wanted to stop running around with just a Jedi Padawan as her main source of protection. That she should return to Sundari and her own guards, her own people.

Obi-Wan tried to argue against it, but by that point her mind was set and she was too stubborn to dissuade.

“How can I speak of peace without being willing to live a peaceful life? It looks hypocritical to have you or Fett fighting for me as you do!” Hearing his words come out of her mouth, Alpha-17 had to lock down hard on his shields to keep his amusement from leaking through. “I’m returning to Sundari and taking my rightful place as the leader of Mandalore! I refuse to let Death Watch dictate what I do any longer!”

The explosion during her return speech took out half the palace, all of the other high ranking New Mandalorians with her, and a chunk of the plaza they’d been in. Obi-Wan had been ordered to stay away, for appearances sake, and was sulking on the other side of the city when it happened.

No one could be surprised that the True Mandalorians--who had been speaking out against this from the start--swooped in to provide security that the New Mandalorians clearly weren’t capable of. Or when Jango Fett took control in the sudden power vacuum.

A brief, furious looking mock-campaign later and Death Watch was surrendering to him, convincing even many of the New Mandalorians that perhaps he was the right choice for leader during such uncertain times.

The distraction kept Obi-Wan from suggesting he return to Coruscant. The devastation of the explosion left the Order unclear as to whether Obi-Wan was even still alive (Alpha-17 possibly sent reports that suggested Obi-Wan had perished, for readers expecting a Jedi to have been with Satine, though gave no outright lies).

Alpha-17 was vindicated for all his work when, used to seeking comfort from Alpha-17, Obi-Wan came directly to him first after just a week of trying to deal with his new grief. 

“I don’t understand, why didn’t she listen to us?”

“People like Satine...they never really see people like us as equals. We’re servants, no matter how close they seem to let us,” Alpha-17 explained, gentle again, because Obi-Wan always deserved gentle. “With Jinn,” Obi-Wan bit back a helpless noise, “he was an important enough outsider she listened. Once he was gone….”

“I thought I was her friend. How could I be so wrong? I don’t--I don’t know what to believe, anymore.”

Alpha-17 tilted Obi-Wan’s head up, staring into his eyes. “I swear to you, Obi-Wan Kenobi, _I’m_ your friend.”

His conviction brought on a new round of crying, though he thought it was more from relief than anything else.

Perhaps it was wrong, to kiss away those tears when he held Obi-Wan, to sooth away his grief with pleasure, but it certainly worked.


End file.
